No one warned me how lonely motherhood can be
Why do I feel so devastatingly isolated as I sit with my toddler on my lap and embrace him?
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When my child Ammar was four months old, I remember him sitting on my knee on the floor of our sensory class, surrounded by miniature maracas and rainbow-coloured ribbons, while I eavesdropped on the conversations between the other mothers around me.
I had hoped to make friends there. But the others talked about leaving their babies with their parents for the weekend to go to alcohol-heavy hen dos in Spain, christening parties, and taking them to see Santa at the shopping centre for the first time. They smiled at me, but we all knew our lives couldn’t be more different.
I left that day with the familiar ache of loneliness I’d carried since I became a parent. And I wondered if that feeling was compounded by my experience as a Muslim mother. Looking around the room, I was the only non-white, hijab-wearing mother. I stuck out like a sore thumb, while battling the thought at the back of my mind that they might have been influenced by stereotypes peddled by British politicians like Boris Johnson and David Cameron about how Muslim mothers are “different” and “unwilling to integrate”.
The strangest aspect of it all is that I am not really alone. I have this adorable mini human who accompanies me almost everywhere I go. So why do I feel so devastatingly isolated as I sit with him on my lap and embrace him?
Loneliness is more prevalent among new parents than in the general population, but only in recent years has there been more mainstream awareness and discussions about the loneliness of parenthood, particularly for mothers. A 2021 Royal Society study found that a third of mothers in Britain spend up to eight hours a day on their own with their baby. Research from the British Red Cross found that 90% of mothers have felt lonely since giving birth, with 54% feeling that they had no friends. Social isolation after having a baby has been linked to the development of postnatal depression, according to BMC Psychiatry.
Ammar, now three, is my priority and I am his primary caregiver. It is often a joyous experience and responsibility I am glad to hold, but it has been a massive transition. I went from a life filled with friends, work, travel and hobbies, to now spending large stretches of time at home with no one to talk to but Ammar.
When I have actually made plans to meet friends, I often find myself having to cancel at the last minute if Ammar suddenly falls sick. I’m now the unreliable, flaky friend — something that I never wanted to be. But there is nothing I can do; I can’t just escape Ammar’s neverending colds. With no childcare support beyond my husband, I can only hope that my friends understand.
Six months into a career break to focus on taking care of my son, I witness people around me making strides in their careers, fellow authors going to the social events and book clubs we onced used to go to together. I am a writer, but I fear I’ve lost a sense of that identity.
These precious first years of my child’s life have already flown by, but the impact of this loneliness has stayed with me. I can feel how it’s affected my mental health. There are only so many times I can have the same conversation with my three-year-old about where Iggle Piggle from In the Night Garden left his red blanket, or why we don’t wash our faces with water from the toilet bowl, before I long for the deep, meaningful and varied conversations I used to have with my old friends.
Every evening at 6pm, as I sit in my living room with Ammar watching CBeebies, my husband only having just returned from work, the loneliness still hits me hard. I’m winded by it.
But I know there is support out there. A close friend recently started a small WhatsApp group of first-time Muslim mothers with toddlers, in the hope we will connect and start meeting up while our toddlers run riot. I think I will take up her offer of joining.
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